Get Well Soon
by finnick-life-ruiner
Summary: Finnick pays a visit to his college sweetheart when she's sick.


"Finnick, I won't open the door," I threaten over the phone. "Work on your paper, I don't know. No. I don't want you to come over. I'm extremely contagious," I cough. "See? Alright good. I'll let you know when I feel better. Yes, yes, I promise I'll tell you if I need anything."

I sink back on my bed with my Netflix and try to ignore the aching through my whole body and the soreness in my throat. I see my reflection on the screen while the next episode loads and groan. I look disgusting, which is partly why I'm glad Finnick's not here.

I'm about halfway through my episode when I hear a knock on my door. My suit-mate yells that she'll get it so I assume she has a friend over. The door closes loudly and I hear pleasant chatter outside the room, but it quickly dies down. Through the corner of my eye I see my door open slowly. "It better be my roommate," I mutter.

"Not unless she grew a foot over night," he says, ditching his cover.

"Finnick, why?" I sigh.

"Okay I know you said I shouldn't come over," he starts.

"Yup. Well, I'm glad to know you _did_ hear that part."

"But I have a very great explanation."

"Let's hear it then."

"I accidentally got two orders of chicken soup, and well, I can't finish it all by myself," he explains.

"You don't even like chicken soup," I snarl.

"Which is why when I realized that I got one order of chicken soup instead of my usual tomato basil, I came over. You know how easily distracted I get."

"Uh huh," I glare at him. "Chicken and tomato do sound awfully similar."

"I'm glad you understand," he grins. I roll my eyes but give up. There's no way I'm winning this argument and we both know it and I'm not exactly in prime physical conditions to kick him out by force.

I sit up and make room for him on my bed while he brings me my lunch. Though I'm extremely annoyed by his stubbornness, I do appreciate the soup. I haven't had much to eat in a while and the rumbling in my tummy was getting out of control. "So what are we watching?" he asks, grabbing my laptop.

"Chick flicks," I grin. Sweet vengeance.

"Is there any other genre you'd be willing to watch? What about a good ol' documentary?" he teases. "Let's negotiate."

"I'll play an action movie," I say and his face lights up, "if you leave."

"You know? I do love Sandra Bullock."

I pick a movie and we watch it on my bed, sat together, leaning against the wall with Finn's arm around me as I eat my chicken soup. I have to admit it's an improvement from where I was an hour before. About half way through the movie he leaves the room without a word and returns minute later with a cup of peppermint tea. "It'll soothe your throat," he offers.

"Thanks," I smile. He nods and kisses me cheek. "Don't make me sneeze on you."

"If I'm gonna get sick, I'd rather it be like this," he laughs.

"Yeah, I'm sure your swimming coach won't mount my head on a spike if you get sick two days before your swim meet," I say.

"Fine. Zero kissing," he pouts.

I must have dozed off at some point in the movie because when I wake up its already dark outside and I'm tucked in in bed. I try escaping the grip of Finnick's heavy arm to no avail. "Finn," I whisper. "Finnick." He stirs but only pulls me closer to his chest so I smack his arm instead. "Wake up."

"What? Huh?" he grouses sleepily.

"We fell asleep. Go back to your dorm, you have an eight A.M. tomorrow."

"Worst decision of my life," he chuckles. I watch as he sits and stretches, part of the reason I love when Finn stays over is that he's incredibly cute when he's just woken up. "What?" he asks when he sees me smiling.

"Your hair, it's Stylish," I giggle. It hurts my throat.

"Oh you know, you've looked better yourself," he smirks.

"Which is why I insisted you stayed away, you bonehead."

"Ouch. My feelings," he jokes. "I think you're beautiful."

"You just said I looked like crap," I argue.

"No, I said you've looked _better_. And you have. So if right now I think you're beautiful, other times you've looked absolutely stunning."

"I hate being wrong," I grunt.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm glad you came over today. Thanks for the soup and the tea," I smile. "I almost forgot I feel like absolute shit with you here."

"Anytime, Anne," he kisses my forehead. "I should go now. Get well soon, Love."


End file.
